Eleanor & Park (21 page)

lame,’ he said.

‘I did.’

‘Lame and fantastic?’

‘Those are both your middle

names …’

‘I want to try again.’

‘Try what again? Your
Karate

Kid
thing? I think that would be

less fantastic. You’ve got to know

when to walk away …’

‘No, I want you to come over

again. Would you?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said.

‘You’re grounded.’

‘Yeah …’

Eleanor

Everybody at school knew that

Eleanor was the reason Park

Sheridan kicked Steve Dixon in

the mouth.

There was a new kind of

whispering when she walked

down the halls.

Somebody in geography asked

her if it was true that they were

fighting
over
her. ‘No!’ Eleanor

said. ‘For Christ’s sake.’

Later she wished that she

would have said ‘Yes!’ – because

if that had gotten back to Tina, oh

my God, it would have made her

furious.

On the day of the fight,

DeNice and Beebi wanted Eleanor

to tell them every gory detail.

Especially the gory details. DeNice

even bought Eleanor an ice cream

cone to celebrate.

‘Anyone who whups Steve

Dixon’s sorry ass deserves a

medal,’ DeNice said.

‘I didn’t go near Steve’s ass,’

Eleanor said.

‘But you were the cause of the

ass-whupping,’ DeNice said. ‘I

heard your boy kicked him so

hard, Steve cried blood.’

‘That’s not true,’ Eleanor said.

‘Girl, you need to learn a

lesson about standing in your own

light,’ DeNice said. ‘If my Jonesy

kicked Steve’s ass, I’d be walking

around this place singing that song

f r o m
Rocky
. Nuh-nuh, nuhhh,

nuh-nuh, nuhhh …’

That

made

Beebi

giggle.

Everything DeNice said made

Beebi giggle. They’d been best

friends since grade school, and the

better she got to know them, the

more Eleanor felt like it was an

honor that they’d let her into their

club.

Granted, it was a weird club.

DeNice was wearing her

overalls today with a pink T-shirt,

pink and yellow hair ribbons and

a pink bandana tied around her

leg. When they were standing in

line for ice cream, some boy

walked by and told DeNice that

she looked like a black Punky

Brewster.

DeNice didn’t even flinch. ‘I

don’t need to worry about that

riffraff,’ she said to Eleanor. ‘I got

a man.’

Jonesy and DeNice were

engaged. He’d already graduated

and was working as an assistant

manager at ShopKo. They were

getting married as soon as DeNice

was legal.

‘And your man’s fine,’ Beebi

said, giggling.

When Beebi giggled, Eleanor

giggled, too. Beebi’s laugh was

that contagious. And she always

had a manic, surprised look in her

eyes – that look people get when

they can’t keep a straight face.

‘Eleanor wouldn’t think he’s

fine,’ DeNice teased. ‘She’s only

interested in stone-cold killers.’

Park

‘How long am I grounded?’ Park

asked his father.

‘That’s not up to me, that’s up

to your mother.’

His dad was sitting on the

couch, reading
Soldier of Fortune
.

‘She says forever,’ Park said.

‘I guess it’s forever then.’

It was almost Christmas break.

If Park was grounded during

Christmas break, he’d have to go

three

weeks

without

seeing

Eleanor.

‘Dad …’

‘I’ve got an idea,’ his dad said,

setting down the magazine. ‘You

can be ungrounded as soon as you

learn to drive a stick. Then you

can drive your girlfriend around

…’

‘What girlfriend?’ his mother

said. She came in the front door,

carrying groceries. Park got up to

help her. His dad got up to give

her a welcome-home tongue kiss.

‘I told Park I’d unground him

if he learned how to drive.’

‘I know how to drive,’ Park

shouted from the kitchen.

‘Learning how to drive an

automatic is like learning how to

do a girl pushup,’ his dad said.

‘No girl,’ his mother said.

‘Grounded.’

‘But for how long?’ Park

asked, walking back into the

living room. His parents were

sitting on the couch. ‘You can’t

ground me forever.’

‘Sure we can,’ his dad said.

‘Why?’ Park asked.

His mother looked agitated.

‘You’re grounded until you stop

thinking about that trouble girl.’

Park and his dad both broke

character to look at her.

‘What trouble girl?’ Park

asked.

‘Big Red?’ his dad asked.

‘I don’t like her,’ his mother

said, adamantly. ‘She comes to my

house and cries, very weird girl,

and then next thing I know, you’re

kicking friends and school is

calling, face broken … And

everybody, everybody, tell me that

family is trouble. Just trouble. I

don’t want it.’

Park took a breath and held it.

Everything inside of him felt too

hot to let out.

‘Mindy …’ his dad said,

holding a wait-a-minute hand up

to Park.

‘No,’ she said, ‘
no
. No weird

white girl in my house.’

‘I don’t know if you’ve

noticed, but weird white girls are

my only option,’ Park said as

loudly as he could. Even this

angry, he couldn’t yell at his

mother.

‘There are other girls,’ his

mother said. ‘Good girls.’

‘She
is
a good girl,’ Park said.

‘You don’t even know her.’

His dad was standing, pushing

Park toward the door. ‘Go,’ he

said sternly. ‘Go play basketball or

something.’

‘Good girls don’t dress like

boys,’ his mother said.

‘Go,’ his dad said.

Park didn’t feel like playing

basketball, and it was too cold

outside without his coat. He stood

in front of his house for a few

minutes, then stomped over to his

grandparents’ house. He knocked,

then opened the door; they never

locked it.

They were both in the kitchen,

w a t c h i n g
Family

Feud
.

His

grandmother was making Polish

sausage.

‘Park!’ she said. ‘I must have

known you were coming. I made

way too many Tater Tots.’

‘I

thought

you

were

grounded,’ his grandpa said.

‘Hush, Harold, you can’t be

grounded

from

your

own

grandparents … Are you feeling

okay, honey? You look flushed.’

‘I’m just cold,’ Park said.

‘Are you staying for dinner?’

‘Yeah,’ he said.

After dinner, they watched

Matlock
.

His

grandmother

crocheted. She was working on a

blanket for somebody’s baby

shower. Park stared at the TV, but

didn’t take anything in.

His grandmother had filled the

wall behind the TV with framed

eight-by-ten photographs. There

were pictures of his dad and his

dad’s older brother who died in

Vietnam, and pictures of Park and

Josh from every school year.

There was a smaller photo of his

parents, on their wedding day. His

dad was in his dress uniform, and

his mom was wearing a pink

miniskirt. Somebody had written

‘Seoul, 1970’ in the corner. His

dad was twenty-three. His mom

was eighteen, only two years older

than Park.

Everybody had thought she

must be pregnant, his dad had told

him. But she wasn’t. ‘Practically

pregnant,’ his dad said, ‘but that’s

a different thing … We were just

in love.’

Park hadn’t expected his mom

to like Eleanor, not right away –

but he hadn’t expected her to

reject her, either. His mom was so

nice to everybody. ‘Your mother’s

an angel,’ his grandma always

said. It’s what everyone always

said.

His grandparents sent him

home after
Hill Street Blues
.

His mom had gone to bed, but

his dad was sitting on the couch,

waiting for him. Park tried to walk

past.

‘Sit down,’ his dad said.

Park sat down.

‘You’re

not

grounded

anymore.’

‘Why not?’

‘It doesn’t matter why not.

You’re not grounded, and your

mother is sorry, you know, for

everything she said.’

‘You’re just saying that,’ Park

said.

His dad sighed. ‘Well, maybe I

am. But that doesn’t matter either.

Your mother wants what’s best

for you, right? Hasn’t she always

wanted what’s best for you?’

‘I guess …’

‘So she’s just worried about

you. She thinks she can help you

pick out a girlfriend the same way

she helps you pick out your

classes and your clothes …’

‘She doesn’t pick out my

clothes.’

‘Jesus, Park, could you just

shut up and listen?’

Park sat quietly in the blue

easy chair.

‘This is new to us, you know?

Your mother’s sorry. She’s sorry

that she hurt your feelings, and

she wants you to invite your

girlfriend over to dinner.’

‘So that she can make her feel

bad and weird?’

‘Well, she is kind of weird,

isn’t she?’

Park didn’t have the energy to

be angry. He sighed and let his

head fall back on the chair. His

dad kept talking.

‘Isn’t that why you like her?’

Park knew he should still be mad.

He knew there were big

chunks of this situation that were

completely uncool and out of

order.

But

he

wasn’t

grounded

anymore, he was going to get to

spend more time with Eleanor …

Maybe they’d even find a way to

be alone. Park couldn’t wait to tell

her. He couldn’t wait for morning.

CHAPTER 24

Eleanor

It was a terrible thing to admit. But

sometimes Eleanor slept right

through the yelling.

Especially after she’d been

back a couple months. If she were

to wake up every time Richie got

angry … If she got scared every

time she heard him yelling in the

back room …

Sometimes Maisie would wake

her up, crawling into the top

bunk. Maisie wouldn’t let Eleanor

see her cry during the day, but she

shook like a little baby and sucked

her thumb at night. All five of

them had learned to cry without

making any noise. ‘It’s okay,’

Eleanor would say, hugging her.

‘It’s okay.’

Tonight, when Eleanor woke

up, she knew something was

different.

She heard the back door slam

open. And she realized that,

before she’d been quite awake,

she’d heard men’s voices outside.

Men cursing.

There was more slamming in

the kitchen – and then gunshots.

Eleanor knew they were gunshots,

even though she’d never heard

any before.

Gang members, she thought.

Drug

dealers.

Rapists.

Gang

members who were also drug-

dealing rapists. She could imagine

a thousand heinous people who

might have some bone to pick out

of Richie’s skull – even his

friends were scary.

She must have started to get

out of bed as soon as she heard

the gunshots. She was already on

the bottom bunk, crawling over

Maisie.

‘Don’t

move,’

she

whispered, not sure whether

Maisie was awake.

Eleanor opened the window

just enough to fit through. There

wasn’t any screen. She climbed

out and ran as lightly as she could

off the porch. She stopped at the

house next door – an old guy

named Gil lived there. He wore

suspenders with T-shirts and gave

them dirty looks when he was

sweeping his sidewalk.

Gil took forever to answer the

door, and when he did, Eleanor